Zoey: Getting readyMature

'Shut up!' The man in the doorway hissed and I obeyed immediately. 

He speculated me with narrowed dark eyes. His mouth turned up into an ugly grimace as he made his way towards me. I scrambled back against the wall even further and held my hands out to him, a plead.

'Don't hurt me,' My voice broke, a basic sign of fear. He seemed to like this as the corners of his mouth turned up and he grabbed my elbow, yanking me roughly off the bed.

This is it, a chance for escape. Gathering everything I knew about self defense from the back of my mind, I brought my knee up to his groin and brought my fist slamming upwards into his face, sending him flying backwards onto the bed.

I ran through the doorway, not really thinking about where I was going, just knowing that I had to get out of there. I found myself on a long, carpeted landing stretching off in both directions. I turned for the right and prayed my legs would speed up and take me to safety. My heart was pounding ferociously in my chest, so hard I thought it was going to explode.

I heard footsteps behind me and the gruff voice of the man 'GET BACK HERE!' which only made me speed up. My hair, something I had once adored and shown with pride now became my enemy as it blew into my eyes and temporarily blinded me. And then I wasn't running, I was skidding. The rug bunched up beneath my feet and I ended up tangled in it, on the floor. 

The man loomed over me, laughing.

'Don't try that again, you're not going to escape.' 

He lifted me up deftly, as if I weighed nothing and slung me over his shoulder. I saw his thick legs begin to move and I slammed my fist as hard as I could onto his back.

'Let me GO!' I screamed desperately. 

'You're not going anywhere,' the man growled. 

All sorts of thoughts were flying through my head; what was going to happen to me? Where was he taking me? However, there was one singled thought, scorched into my mind, buzzing around me begging to be answered: Was I going to die?

I thought of my mother at home, all by herself, sitting in that big dark house, alone... My friends, no longer smiling but mournful, dressed in black, there eyes morose and their expressions permanently miserable. 

The man came to a stop outside a heavy wooden door. Rapping three sharp knocks, he entered the room and set me down on the floor. I began to scramble to my feet, but he pushed me down in the chest with the toe of his boot. Keeping a foot planted firmly at the base of my throat, he snarled 'Don't try anything funny.'

'Paul, I think you're hurting her.' A soft voice, hinted with exasperation murmured behind me. I couldn't see who it was, my head was pinned in place, eyes staring upwards.

The man, supposedly named Paul, scoffed. 'As if that matters. She's probably not going to last long anyway. She's a little fighter but she doesn't have the intelligence.'

'You should give her a chance,' the woman murmured. 

Paul finally lifted his foot off my chest and spat on me, before exiting the room.

'Oh dear,' the woman was over to me in a flash, helping me upwards, wiping the man's saliva from my cheek. 'We're going to have to get you out of these filthy clothes. The game is due to start soon and Sir won't be happy if you're still looking like this.'

I didn't register anything she said, I just numbly let her guide me over to the far side of the room, where two other women were waiting. They unzipped my dress, and once again, I let them. The material fell to the floor and I was stood in just my bra and knickers. I didn't feel self conscious though, I was in shock, not really comprehending anything that was going on.

Minutes later, I was washed and sitting in front of a mirror in a thick, white dressing gown. Fingers ran through my hair, pinning it up and wrapping strands around curling tongs. I just sat staring at my reflection. My dark hair hung past my shoulders, reaching my waist. You couldn't see the golden highlights, not when it was wet, it just looked black. Lifeless blue eyes gazed back at me. My mouth was set in a line of defeat, as if I had succumbed myself to my fate. I didn't bother fighting as they dressed me in a rich blue dress. It was one I perhaps would have marveled at before, but now just wanted to rip the stupid satin away from my skin. 

Hours later, I was a completely different person. My eyes had been lined with black kohl and dark eyeshadow covered my lids, making my eyes look deathly and mysterious. I sort of liked it.

My long hair fell in soft curls, the top half pinned up, the bottom half flowing like an inky waterfall. 

'Wow, you look beautiful,' one of the women breathed. I didn't even acknowledge her. I just wanted to get out of this wretched place.

'You're going to need this.'

They handed me a silver dagger and I took it, confused.

'And this.'

A pistol? What on earth was I going to need a gun for?!

'Good luck sweetie.' The woman took my hand and led me to another door. Only now I started protesting. I pulled on her grip and looked at her imploringly.

'Please, I don't want to die.'

The woman's expression turned agonized, regretful.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. She pulled me forward, opened the door, and when I refused to move, she pushed me in the back so I tumbled forwards into terrifying darkness.

The End

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